Camp
by writerdude3000
Summary: when Zack is shipped off to a remote summer camp, already steeped in tradition, he must make the best of the situation and on the way, learn a thing or two. They say that the wilderness helps you find yourself. In this case, it really is true.


xX… well, its official! I have writers block! So, I'm not going to ruin any of my pre-existing stories by writing bad chapters, instead, I'll just start a new one (I know! I know!) So, bear with me on this! …xX

The elevator door opened and a pair that, if you did not know them, you would not think alike. The woman, in her 40s was fair skinned with shimmering, curly natural red hair pulled up into a pony tail, she wore a woven, white long skirt and a tight fitting multicolored tee-shirt. She carried a large messenger bag, slung over her shoulder and sitting lazily at her side. The boy, 14 or so, was dark skinned with shaggy brown hair. A pair of jeans, frayed at the ends, flip flops and a navy, casual polo. He- casual, she- pretentiously chic. They step out of the elevator and into the fading daylight- the sun a shimmering blaze dropping into the East River.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asks him, taking his hand, reluctantly- he takes hers.

"Well…"

"Honest!" she says, laughing.

"It was a little slow at the beginning…"

She nods, he continues:

"and even when it DOES pick up, its so frivolous that no one is even looking or caring about the characters, they're just wondering where they got that foldout love seat or the chandelier that melds into a plasma tv screen…"

"THAT was a little- um, over the top" she says. Stopping at an open air market to get some oregano.

Ever since her husband, his father, left one night- she has taken more control of her career as a Cinematographer for films and taken a bigger part in her children's' lives.

They stop to look at the menu displayed in the window of some boutique new eatery.

"Zack?" she asks, looking at the menu, fully engrossed by it: "Do you REALLY want to go home and make me cook?" he smiles, his mom hates cooking.

"How about we go in here and try it," he suggests, taking his mothers bait.

"Well- if you insist Zack, geez, you're such a pushy child," she pushes open the door.

Three minutes, and twelve mishaps later, they are comfortably seated in a spacious booth, the place is two thirds empty. Not too good, considering its 8:00pm on a Friday evening.

"Zack, honey- What did you say your plans were this summer?" she asks sweetly, sipping her Martini. She still drinks. A lot.

"Gordon, Marta and I are going to Coachella. The Ravonettes are playing!"

"Yeah. Um… Two fried Poo-Poo Plater appetizers please," she says to the waitress who scuttles off, "about that…"

"Mom- it's ok. Marta's parents are coming too! They'll be with us!"

"No, no, it's not that. I'm. Well. You're not going…" she trails off and Zack can hear the remorse that tinges every word she speaks.

"You see, your grandfather- well, on your da… fathers side, and your father and your uncles all went to a summer camp- Keewaydin, its called- well, they all went there and you're father… well… he, he wanted you to go to the camp."

"…And you LISTENED TO HIM? A man that left you for a secretary, first of all, as a cinematographer you should know HOW CLICHED that is, second of all, why on earth would you humor a man you has done this to you?" The waitress timidly drops of the Poo-Poo Platters and hurries off, out of the onslaught.

"Zack- Honey- Love, you know that I would never do anything he says, its just that, well, you know, it meant a lot to all of his family- you LOVE grandpa Marc, don't you? You'd want to make him happy- right? So please, Zack. Coachella will always be there, this is an experience that has shaped hundreds of kids. Zack it would mean so much to all of us if you just tried it out, for a month. Please. Zack- I've signed you up. I need you to do this."

"What's the real reason?" Zack said quietly, eating the cherry of the kabob.

"…"

"Come'on. Tell me!"

"Your grandfather will give us damages."

"M-…"

"Zack, the business isn't what it used to be, and it's not picking up. I, we, need this money a lot. We can't send you to private school anymore, we don't have the money. We can't go into the city and see shows, you can't just fly cross-country for a festival, we don't have the money. Please, Zack. I'm on my knees. As your mother, someone who loves you and wouldn't make you do anything you hated. I beg of you."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really," she laughs.

"Well than let me think about it- ok, I'll go. Only if you tell me how much in damages?"

"Well, I think, 500,000."

"Hot damn!"

"ZACKARY!"

The food comes and the settle down to their fate.

**One and a half months later:**

After six long hours from New York, three wrong turns and five dead ends, they've finally made it to Salisbury Vermont, well, a little outside Salisbury on Lake Dunmore. The campus sprawled out in front of the two city slickers quickly. Suburban rich, stereotypical looking teens with their lacrosse sticks walked with their parents across the large ball field in the center of the field. The lake looked like a refreshing alternative to the hot suns rays that blazed down on the mother-son team. They each took a side of the trunk and began hauling it towards a makeshift check in table right in front of an old, regal looking dinning hall. Two kindly looking women sat behind the table, pointing little kids and their jittery parents in the right direction.

"Hi, Leargrum, checking in. Zack." His mother spoke for him.

"Alright, nice to meet you, you must be a new camper! Well, you're over their right by the big ball field and near the lake. Tent 10. Waramaug, that's the name of your group- age group, well, whatever."

The continued to carry the trunk all the way to tent ten, which was on a path that looked right out over the ocean and got a nice breeze. After settling in, Zack's mother kissed him goodbye and left. He watched her get into the car and pull out, waving all the way. The area was deserted. Waramaug had around 15 tents of 13 and 14 year olds. 4 to a platformed tent, with one staffman or counselor per tent.

Everyone must be at lunch he thought, putting his iPod safely under his bathing suit. He found the bedding on his little cot and began fiddling with it, back home, he never made his bed. After much work, he sat down on his masterpiece and took at some stationary.

**Dear Gordo,**

**Yeah, it's my first day and it pretty much sucks. Keep me filled in and don't forget to remind Marta that we're still her best friends so she better not dump us for trash at Coachella!**

**Z**

He licked the envelope and addressed it to his best friend, not even looking at the folder with all the addresses, he stamped it and set it in a cubby.

"Hi," said a voice from behind. Zack jumped up and swiveled around. Standing in front of him was another boy; he looked about Zack's age. He was tall and thin, swimmers body build and he looked strong.

"You look new…" he trailed off.

"Yeah. How can you tell."

"Noobs always have a look in their eyes on the first day," he laughed. Brushing the chestnut hair out of his face. Zack looked under his bed, lacrosse stick! He gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh nothing, yeah. Hi. I'm Zack…" he held out his hand. The boy took it,

"Anders."

"Anders?"

"Yeah…well…" the laughed.

"Where is everyone?"

"Lunch. Don't worry, you'll settle down here soon enough."

"Yeah. I don't think I fit in here,"

Anders laughed, he bent down and got out his lacrosse stick,

"Where do you play?" he asked.

"Uh. I don't…"

He stood there.

"What?"

"I don't play Lacrosse."

"Damn. You ARE weird!"

xX… What will happen? Will this story get any better? Will Anders and Zack become friends? Will I stop writing this story? WHO KNOWS! TUNE IN NEXT TIME! …xX


End file.
